


Carlisle Cullen

by VampireGuardDogs



Series: twilight headcanons - individuals [2]
Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireGuardDogs/pseuds/VampireGuardDogs
Summary: A series of headcanons revolving around Carlisle Cullen





	1. living quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! Come talk to me on Tumblr under the username vampireguarddogs and to see a bunch more Twilight content, including writing I don't post here and moodboards! I also accept writing requests for your favorite ship, character, or group. I love any kind of message, long or short, about my work or anything! Have a great day. :)

carlisle didn’t have a family to go home to, but he still had to have a home to keep up the human charade.

he would rent a small apartment near the hospital where he worked. he ddin’t need much, so would get a one-room apartment with low rent. he made a lot at the hospital, but he preferred to use his wages to donate to those that actually needed what he only pretended to need.

despite the small size of the room, he kept it filled with mementos from his various past lives.

he kept a book of the various diplomas he earned from various colleges and medical schools.

the textbooks he had written and published under various different names were kept in a stack on his coffee table. “just some light reading, learning from our past” he’d say if anyone asked.

his growing painting collection decorated the walls, a way of keeping his own history. they practically filled the small apartment, yet he kept finding more he was interested in. 

he kept the cabinets stocked with food to keep up appearances. most of the food he kept was canned or other nonperishables of some point, so he could donate it anonymously to the local food bank a little after he bought it. he hated the thought of throwing away food, even if it was revolting to him.

he had a small couch in one area of the room and a small bed in the other. next to each, he had multiple large bookshelves filled with all kinds of books. his favorite to read were romances and fiction novels, but he also had a ton of medical books. he was always looking to expand his knowledge.


	2. Lost in Thought

As a young boy, Carlisle was on his own a lot. His mother was gone, so he didn’t have her to be around for him. After his mother died, his father grew more distant. He spent less time in their empty house, unable to stand the missing presence. So Carlisle had a series of tutors, and would spend the rest of his time alone, or at school. Sometimes, he’d walk to the church where his father spent most of his time. This way, his father could keep an eye on him without being at home. Carlisle would grow to take over the church one day, so it was about time he started learning what it was like.

But Carlisle never found an interest in it. He didn’t like the stories of people being punished by a merciless god. He didn’t like the violent raids his father would go out on and then celebrate. It wasn’t for him. It never would be. So he kept himself entertained while his father preached lessons he could never, would never follow.

He thought of what his future may be like. He truly had no idea, but he didn’t want it to be anything like his present. He wanted to find a wife he could love, wanted to have children he could spoil with love and attention. Being a preacher like his father was never what he wanted. He wanted to help people, but he wasn’t sure how. Maybe as a teacher, or as a doctor. There were so many ways his life could go, but he hoped it could only go up.

Sometimes, he would think of what it may be like if his mother was still around. He was so young when she died, so he didn’t really have many memories of her. But he had seen mothers with their sons at school, walking around town, sitting in the pews at church. He watched mothers pick up their sons from school, wishing he had someone he could walk home with while talking all about his day instead of facing the long walk alone. He wanted someone he could lean into when he was tired during long sermons. He missed having someone to play with at the park, someone to watch and help cook and clean their house instead of doing it all alone. All he could think of sometimes was how much he missed having a mother.

His imaginings, unfortunately, often got him into trouble. His father would be angry when he learned that Carlisle hadn’t been following the sermons. His father always said it took him far too long to memorize anything they needed to share with the congregation. Story after story, lesson after lesson, moral after moral, he just didn’t care to think about them. They weren’t what he wanted to learn, what he wanted to think about.

He was a little better in school. He found the lessons more interesting; they were often about things he wanted to learn. They worked with other languages, perfected their own, learned arithmetic, studied art and music, discovered their past. He loved reading and learning about other places, other ways of thinking that were different from what his father always forced on him. He would often lose himself in his studies, hoping it could lead him to a better life than the one he was always stuck in.

He remained lost in his thoughts throughout his childhood until he became a young adult. Then, his father needed him more than ever. It was more up to Carlisle to run the family church, to lead the vampire hunts that led to so many unnecessary deaths. All Carlisle could ever think was that he hated the raids. He didn’t like the violence, the fear they caused. They weren’t for him. But he couldn’t ignore his father’s wishes anymore. But he did the best he could to delay him, to think through his strategies to learn the signs before they attacked. He was sure they would never find the creatures his father feared and that Carlisle didn’t think could exist.

His father was demanding a raid, people were still disappearing only to reappear a few days later, their bodies broken and bloodless. Some never returned. So Carlisle pointed to where he thought a group was most likely to be, hoping it would appease his father. He was horrified to learn that his thoughts were right. All the people he had asked to go on this raid, all the people who had families that wanted them to come home were in danger. His thoughts overwhelmed him, thinking there was nothing he could do to stop them.   
Maybe if the monsters got him, they would be satisfied and leave the other alone.

He closed his eyes as the monster lunged at him, letting himself get lost in his happy thoughts as he had done so many times before.


	3. Hopeful

The raid was tonight. He had been working towards it for months; his father had been demanding he lead one almost as long. Carlisle had hoped he could put raiding off as long as he could, maybe avoid it forever, but that clearly wouldn’t be the case. His father wouldn’t stop demanding it, and the town was getting restless. People were disappearing, getting hurt. They expected their preacher to lead them to the creatures responsible. He put off their demands by saying he was looking for clues. Clues that would prove the creatures they hunted were those that they were meaning to hunt. But he could only delay so long before he had to lead the hunt.

He hoped it wouldn’t go well. Maybe he had guessed wrong, and the ones he had targeted weren’t the ones he was hunting. Maybe there was no one there after all. Maybe he was right, but the creatures had gotten wind of the hunt and left. He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t find any way to justify the violence he was about to cause. He could only hope no one would be there when they arrived.

But these hopes didn’t pan out. He was standing at the head of his raid, full of people that had volunteered for this. People whose death and suffering he would now be responsible for. What could he do but watch as the creatures attacked? They tried to run, they all did. But they were no match for the hungry creature, who eventually turned on them and attacked. Carlisle watched as one, two of his men were murdered before the creature turned on him. He hoped it would be quick.

It wasn’t. He felt the creature grab him, felt his flesh tear as he was bitten. His whole body was on fire; he couldn’t get away from it. But he wouldn’t scream. He wouldn’t draw attention to himself, wouldn’t risk someone coming upon this scene and getting hurt because of him. He was glad the others had fled. 

The fire didn’t stop, and he realized he was alone. He didn’t notice when the creature had thrown him aside and fled. Why hadn’t it killed him? Why was he left alone? He didn’t take the time to find out, or spend too long worrying about it before he knew he had to move. He couldn’t leave himself lying the street, knowing that anything infected by the monster would be destroyed. He had to save himself, hopeful that whatever would come of this would end quickly, that he would be okay in the end. 

It wasn’t quick. He crawled into an abandoned cellar, doing all he could to keep quiet at the fire raged through him. He didn’t know what was happening. What had the creature done to him? When would it end? He hadn’t heard of anything like this happening before. What could be done? Was it reversible? What was happening?

He kept himself hidden in the cellar, buried away where no one could see or hear him. He did everything he could to stay quiet, to avoid discovery. He was so thankful no one found him; it was his only hope. He tried to pass the time by keeping himself as distracted as possible from what was happening. The burn was to ignore, but his fear was harder. He didn’t know what to expect, but he could hope that something good could come out of this. This wasn’t how he had expected his life to go; to lead to him sitting alone in a cellar, waiting for his life to end.

He had had hopes for where his life could go. All he wanted was to help people, and as he lay there, he hoped that wouldn’t change. He had some idea of what was happening to him, but maybe something good could come of this. Maybe there was some way around what he was becoming. Maybe he didn’t have to be the monster that so many had painted his kind to be. 

He laid in the cellar, hoping and planning. He knew he had to leave this town immediately; he couldn’t risk getting recognized. What would they do when they realized he had become what they all feared? He didn’t know where else he could go, only that it had to be somewhere else. As a child, he had had hopes of traveling to different lands. Maybe to France, or Italy, or other cities near his. Maybe he could make his home in the countryside, or in the woods. Maybe another city, like the one he had grown up in but different. Maybe a more accepting place, somewhere he wouldn’t have to hide as much.

What could he do though? He didn’t want to be a preacher, and now, could a creature like him even do that? He hoped to spend his time learning, maybe someday discovering   
why creatures like this existed. Maybe he could discover ways to help people, as he had always wanted to do. He was afraid his new nature wouldn’t allow him to do things like this, but he had to hope that the attack hadn’t changed too much of who he was.


	4. Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abuse tw

It had been a long week. Carlisle had spent his days caring for his church and home, and his nights writing sermons by candlelight. Even after he had extinguished the candle and laid his head to rest, he couldn’t. Too much worry over his father’s failing health, the raids he was forced to lead, and the people he constantly felt he was failing kept his brain running long after he had willed it to sleep. It left him exhausted, his skin pale contrasting against the dark circles under his eyes. He walked around the small church building, trailing a broom in an effort to remove the dirt people tracked in. It was impossible to get it all; more seemed to appear whenever he was almost done. 

He collapsed into a pew, unable to muster up the strength to continue on his feet. He busied himself with the few hymnals in front of him, trying to organize them so he’ll look busy if his father made it out. His head drooped forward, his head knocking the back of the pew in front of him as his eyes slid shut.

The sounds of footsteps behind him woke him. He looked up at the woman who had joined him, unable to tell how long he had been asleep. He hoped it hadn’t been too long.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, startling when she saw him. “I didn’t know anyone was here.” Carlisle stood up, reaching out a hand to shake hers. She looked like she hadn’t seen a friendly face in a long time. 

“No need, mam. It’s a public church. I’m the pastor here. Carlisle.” He shook her hand, but she didn’t respond. “What can I do for you?” he asked upon realizing she wouldn’t respond otherwise.

“I… I’m not sure,” she stammered, looking around the church, her eyes darting back and forth as she took it all in.

“Well then, take a seat and we’ll figure it out,” Carlisle said, sitting in the middle of the first pew and motioning next to him. She sat at the closest end, keeping distance between them. 

“Are you from around here?” he asked after she had sat.

“No, sir. I’ve been traveling for awhile,” she answered, fidgeting with the bottom of her tattered dress. 

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere new. I just needed a change.”

“Do you think it could be here?” She didn’t answer. “Do you feel safe here?” he amended.

She shook her head. “I don’t feel safe anywhere.”

“That could change. We work hard to keep this village safe.”

“He’ll find me. I can’t stay anywhere for too long,” she said, starting to stand. “Thank you for your time,” she added in a rush as she began to dash towards the door.

“Wait,” Carlisle called, standing. “It could be different here.” She hesitated at the door, before turning to run back to him. He stared into her eyes, feeling more alert than he had in a long time. 

“Can you really promise that?”

“No. But I can try.”

“Why? Why try?”

“Because I still believe in the good in everyone, and the right of everyone to live a safe, happy life. Or at least try for it.”

“You really think I can be good?” she asked, turning away with a bitter laugh.

“Yes,” he said. “Why not?”

“What’s the point of all this?” she said, answering his question with one of his own. 

“I have no idea. But I refuse to believe anyone was put here just to suffer.”

“Do you really think I could be okay?” she asked. It was similar wording to her question from earlier, but a wholly different meaning now. 

“Of course I do,” he said, sitting in the nearest pew. She sat next to him.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“We can help you find work and a place to stay. And you’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you,” she said again in a soft voice, studying the room with new interest. Carlisle watched her in silence for a time. He then showed her around the surrounding area, before dropping her off with the people who knew exactly how to help people in situations like hers. She wasn’t the first they had helped, and she unfortunately wouldn’t be the last. 

Carlisle walked back to his church alone, continuing to clean up the building when he arrived. He couldn’t get her off his mind; hoping she would be okay, hoping he would see her again. He spoke with a lot of people in situations like hers. The church could offer comfort to a lot of people. But it never failed to exhaust him to see how much evil existed in this world. 

He finished his work, storing the broom before walking to kneel in the middle of the altar. He stayed for a long time, unsure what he wanted to hope for right now. In the end, he asked for reminders of the good in the world, a chance to rest, less reason to be tired. He had been given so many chances to help people, but he hoped for just a few more.


End file.
